


make this place feel like our home

by byesexualniall



Series: we're alright together [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-23 11:05:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18151037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/byesexualniall/pseuds/byesexualniall
Summary: a brief moment in the "we're alright together" universe. march, 2016. niall misses home on st. patrick's day. also, the birth of one of harry's songs.





	make this place feel like our home

_March 2016. **  
**_

It’s hot in LA. Even after all these years, Niall still forgets that, in LA, March is hot.

He’s been cooped up in the studio and at meetings all day, though, air con blasting high enough for him to have to wear a jumper inside, bouncing his leg through meetings and recordings both because he was nervous and because he was chilly. He had the air blasting in his car, too, crawling through the LA traffic while listening to The Script and trying not to think about just how far away home feels on days like today.

He hasn’t been in Ireland for Saint Patrick’s Day in a long time, really. He hasn’t been to Ireland in a long time, if he’s being honest about it. And most of the time he’s okay with that—he’s got homes all over the world, Niall. In London. In LA. In Australia. Wherever Harry is. He doesn’t need to go back to Ireland all the time—he talks to his mum on the phone every day, to Bobby almost as often. He gets pictures of how quickly Theo is growing on a weekly basis, and his cousins and friends are in and out of the States, too, excited to visit Niall whenever they get the chance. He takes Ireland with him, in his accent, in his music, in his heart, in his people. He’s okay, here. Really.

But there’s something about Saint Patrick’s Day. Every time. He watches people from the car, decked out in green, shamrocks painted on their faces, wobbling drunkenly through the city, and he’s never felt so far from home.

The chill is still clinging to Niall’s fingers when he unlocks the door to his house, fumbling with the key a little because of it. The house is freezing, colder than when he left this morning, and they’ve only been dating three months now but he knows, instantly, that Harry’s not left at all today. He’s always so warm, Harry. Always turns the bedroom, the whole house, into an icebox because of it.

“H?” Niall calls into the vast expanse of the house. He drops his keys on the table, toes his shoes off, too, and stills when he doesn’t get a response. “Harold?”

“Living room!” is the response he gets, a little muffled.

“Do you want to order dinner?” Niall asks, as he makes his way toward the living room. He’s looking down at his phone as he steps in, scanning the list he keeps in his Notes app of all the places that deliver to his house. “Maybe Thai?”

Harry doesn’t answer right away. He’s silent for long enough to pique Niall’s interest, to make him glance up from the menu he’s scanning, to make him realize, suddenly, why his boyfriend wasn’t saying a word.

“I was thinking we could eat all this,” Harry smiles.

Harry’s there, standing in the middle of Niall’s living room, hands clasped in front of him, smile stretching across his pretty face. But the room—golden balloons that spell out “LUCKY” hanging above the TV, a vase full of real, live four leaf clovers on the coffee table, green white and orange bunting strung across the ceiling, tangled with shamrock shaped fairy lights. And the food, too, laid out on the coffee table like a buffet: green white and orange cupcakes, an array of meat pies, some peas, just to show it was put together by Harry. Two pints of Guinness set out on the table, too, and Niall’s record player, over by the TV, Kodaline crooning out quietly.

It takes Niall’s breath away.

“I know it’s majorly corny and stereotypical,” says Harry. “But Happy Saint Patrick’s Day, my love.”

He can’t speak. He tries to, but he gapes, like a fish out of water, like a man out of words. It’s just so—it’s so silly, the Party City decorations and the shoddily made cupcakes and the little bit of green icing on Harry’s nose, a clue that he couldn’t wait to start eating—but it’s so perfect, too, so thoughtful, so fucking Harry. And all for him.

“I know you’re sad you can’t be home today,” Harry moves, now, making his way toward Niall, where he’s still standing in the living room entryway. “I wanted to bring a little bit of Ireland to you. I’m sorry I couldn’t do more—I called Maura, tried to fly her out last night, but she’s babysitting Theo today. But I did the best I could. Made the cupcakes myself, gluten free, but they’re tasty I promise.”

“Harry,” it comes out like a croak, raw, squeezing itself out over the lump of tears in Niall’s throat. He sounds like a prat, getting all worked up over some $20 decorations and an old record. He’s never been happier. “You didn’t have to.”

“I know,” Harry shrugs, fitting his arms around Niall’s waist. “I wanted to surprise you, though. How’d today go?”

“It was fine,” Niall shakes his head, “we can talk about it later. I just—I can’t believe you did this all for me.”

Harry squeezes his waist a little, his warm torso pressed to Niall’s. His hand is sliding up under Niall’s shirt, pads of his fingertips flat against the base of Niall’s spine. “We both know how hard it is to be so far away on special days. I just wanted you to feel at home.”

He’s never felt like this in a relationship, Niall. Never felt this cared for, this looked after, this soft, this at home, all the time. He never knew, until now, until Harry, that he could. It’s enough to move Niall to tears, nearly, as he reaches up to cup Harry’s face. He hasn’t shaved in a few days—he’ll have to shave and cut his hair soon, Niall knows, for the movie—so Niall rubs his thumb slowly across his stubble, letting it scritch at his calloused fingers. Harry’s so soft like this, his face relaxed, his body warm, but so strong, too, holding Niall up, holding Niall in place, solid, a house. A home. His home.

“Harry,” his voice is a little more solid this time around. Secure, now that Harry’s holding him. “I feel so—with you, petal, that’s home. This is…”

“I know. Me too,” Harry takes over when his words fail. He drops his forehead, presses it against Niall’s. “You always bring me home, Niall, wherever I am. I wanted to do the same for you.”

There’s nothing Niall can say. Nothing he can do but kiss his boyfriend, sling his arms around his neck and drag him down and press his lips to his, breathe his air, kiss him so deeply it’s like he’s trying to inhale him. Harry laughs, softly, into the kiss, before sliding one hand the rest of the way up under Niall’s shirt, the other down and around to rest on his bum. He kisses back like he’s been waiting for this moment all day—and he has, Niall realizes, with a kick in his stomach. They both have.

–

“I’m surprised,” says Niall, later, when they’re cuddled on the couch, bodies warm with Guinness, Harry rubbing his back slow, soft, steady. “that you didn’t buy yourself one of them ‘Kiss Me I’m Irish’ t-shirts.”

“Oh,” Harry smirks around a mouthful of cupcake, raises his eyebrows. “Wait ‘til you see my boxers, love.”

####

**Author's Note:**

> hiya! thank you so, so much for reading this! remember when i said i'd add to the "we're alright together" universe? i meant it! i absolutely intend to continue writing niall and harry's story—the progression of their relationship before and after the events of we're alright together—perhaps in little pieces like this, or perhaps in longer fics. i'm not quite sure yet. but i wanted to do something for st. patrick's day, and i wanted to revisit this universe, so here we are! i know this isn't much of anything, but i hope you enjoy this brief little glimpse into the early days of niall and harry's story together! thank you to meike, natalie, and lillie, for giving this a first read and for being there to listen to me scream always. thank you for reading this! and for enjoying we're alright together enough to make me feel confident writing more for it. i hope you had a lovely st. patrick's day and are feeling safe, loved, and happy!! lmk if you caught what song this little moment is the birth of!! xx 
> 
> ps—the title and inspiration for this lil drabble come from [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SwoTjZKNKUY). and, as always, if you want to talk narry or fic or whatever you can find me on tumblr [here!](http://byesexualniall.tumblr.com/tagged/x)


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